Doctor, meet the Doctor
by HAL HARV and Watson
Summary: Sam has leapt into the 3rd Doctor, and UNIT has just found a rather... odd crate they need the Doctor to analyze. Meanwhile, Al tries to decipher the comments made by the Project's new guest, because they have no other source of information. And that's just the beginning of their problems... Set shortly after DW "Spearhead from Space," and mid QL season 1
1. Chapter 1

Al woke up, hung over and desperately wishing he had remembered to pick up aspirin last night. He slogged to the bathroom and swung open the medicine cabinet. No such luck. No aspirin. That figured.

He was slumping on the kitchen table waiting for the coffee maker when his pager went off "***New Leap," it read. Al groaned. So much for an easy day.

* * *

Ziggy was euphoric when he greeted Al. "You'll just _hate_ the new guy!" he crowed.

"Why is it you take such pleasure from my troubles?" Al asked wearily. He was not in the mood. "Doesn't sound like their panicking…."

"No, he isn't. He's in the Imaging Chamber."

"Why is he in there?" Al asked sharply.

"We had some trouble confining him. Just go in."

He sighed, chugged the coffee he snagged off the pot, and headed in. Sam's body was waiting. His eyes always looked at him with the same confusion they always showed with every new leap. It always hurt when his best friend's eyes looked at him with no recognition. It never got any easier to step in and explain what he could to who was physically the nation's brightest mind who was, in some cases, now dumber than a rock.

But today, the new Leaper was looking around interestedly, soaking in everything, and taking note of every little detail. Al cleared his throat, and he looked at the admiral.

"Ah! Here's someone! Might I trouble you as to where I am?" Sam's body asked cheerily. It was totally off-setting.

"I can't tell you," Al replied, stunned. He had been ready for a scared, dumb kid huddling in the corner, not this eager energetic intellect taking everything in stride.

"Yes, well, can't blame me for trying," Sam's body smiled. "What's your name? It seems I'm going to be here for a while, and I'm going to need something to call you."

"Call me Al," he replied, and he decided to try the most direct approach. "What's your name?"

"Ah. Call me the Doctor."

"Doctor what?"

"Just the Doctor," the Doctor said with another smile. "Now, is there anything you **can** tell me?" He looked around again. "Obviously, this serves some kind of special purpose, probably to create a projection of surroundings, judging by the cameras and projectors. But surroundings of what? It probably serves as a communication device."

Al was speechless. In five minutes, this guy had easily deduced the purpose of the Imaging Chamber and was probably mapping out how it worked.

"I'm not actually allowed to tell you anything," Al managed to get out of a mouth trying to flap in the nonexistent breeze.

The Doctor clicked his tongue. "Alright. I will have to make do."

"Why don't we talk about you?" Al asked quickly. "When were you born?"

"Let's see… Oh, my… It's quite hazy…. I believe, in your time-scale, I'm around 650 years old, give or take a decade or so, but don't quote me on that."

Al looked at him incredulously. "650 years old?! Are you yanking my chain?!" Of course he was. There was not way _that_ was true!

The Doctor looked at him gravely. "No, I am _not_ 'yanking your chain.' I come from a very long-lived line, to say the least."

"No kidding. So where were you born?"

The Doctor laughed. "You'd never believe me if I told you."

"Try me."

"Suffice it to say I was born a long way from here."

Al sighed. Great. He was very talkative, but he wasn't saying much. It was going to be a long day.


	2. Chapter 2

Sam woke up and moaned. He wasn't back. He would have heard something, not this silence. He sat up and looked around. Strange. He was in a white room cluttered with stuff, and there wasn't a soul around. It was refreshing, really.

He stood and looked down. Good heavens! He must have been over six foot! He saw a full length mirror on the wall and looked at his new form in it; long white hair, large hard nose, and a wrinkled face.

He decided to try and explore, so he got dressed in some kind of flamboyant colorful mess and headed out. That was a mistake. He had no idea where he was, and there was no one in sight. And what was worse was the apparent labyrinth thing the designer of this place had leaned on.

Somehow, he managed to get to one room with a large central console in the middle as a hexagonal island. Sam decided not to touch anything. There was a set of double doors on one wall, but he couldn't figure out how to open them.

He heard a crisp knocking suddenly, and he jumped, throwing his hands against the console as he lost his balance. His hand pushed down a large-handled lever, and he steeled himself in case something exploded.

But to his surprise, the doors opened. Eager to get out of this prison, he hurried out.

A strong military type was waiting with his hat tucked firmly under his arm and a pretty civilian girl at his elbow.

"Doctor," the man said crisply. "We have received a package, and it's giving off the strangest noise. We would like to ensure it isn't a threat."

"Of course," Sam replied, hoping he was in character. He followed the strange man and woman as they turned and walked out of what was a high-tech lab, and he attempted to memorize the turns to get back. They turned a few corners, and they reached an office marked "Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart," and judging by the way the man ordered some of the others around, he was the brigadier.

There was a heavy crate on the desk, and it was humming loudly.

"Well," Sam said hesitantly when it became clear he was supposed to take charge. "Let's have a look." It was the stupidest thing he had ever done, considering he had no idea what happened when he died in another body.

It was an object roughly the size and shape of an American football but perfectly smooth, pitch black, and shiny.

"What on Earth is that?" that familiar grating voice demanded behind Sam's shoulder.

"I have no idea," Same said and looked back at Al, who was standing next to the brigadier.

"You have no idea?" the woman asked surprised.

"No," Sam replied.

"What's up with that outfit?" Al ironically demanded as Sam turned around. It probably didn't help he was in leopard suspenders and a Technicolor blue suit.

Sam shrugged.

"Well, let's take it down to the lab," the woman suggested.

"Good idea," the brigadier said. He called in a lieutenant and sent it to the lab. "You take Miss. Shaw here and start analyzing it," Lethbridge-Stewart said crisply to Sam, who nodded.

"Alright." He followed Miss. Shaw out, but he said, "Excuse me; I need to use the restroom."

She looked surprised but nodded. "Alright."

Sam turned down the nearest hall with Al behind.

"Anything?" Sam asked desperately.

"No. This guy doesn't say much for all the talk. I came to find out stuff from you."

"Well, I have no idea where I am, and now I've been given some kind of weird job!"

"Looks like you're military, in some way," Al observed. "British military."

"Great."

"Do you have any idea what the date is?" Al asked. "The guy on this end isn't being very cooperative."

"No. I'll look around."

"I don't know if this is a joke, but apparently your name is 'the Doctor.'"

"The Doctor?" Sam asked incredulously. Al shrugged.

"That's all I got." Al suddenly stopped and turned his head as if he was listening. "I gotta go. Sounds like he's gotten out."

"How did he do that?!" Sam demanded.

"Beats me. I even had someone watch the door" Al snapped out of existence, and Sam sighed. It was going to be _great_ day.


	3. Chapter 3

Al knew he had problems when the Doctor got into the Control Room. No one was supposed to see the Imaging Chamber, let alone the Quantum Leap nerve center!

He was being good, in a manner of speaking. His hands were behind his back, and he was only peering at everything.

"How did you get out?" Al demanded.

The Doctor turned to look at him. "It was ridiculously simple. All it took was a coin and a chair, both of which you graciously provided."

Al knew exactly what he was talking about; they had been meaning to change the vent cover for years. He was going to have to sent a message up the food chain about this. They would actually act this time, because something had happened.

Al sighed and took a deep breath. He needed to stay completely in control of himself. Nothing like losing it to alienate the Leaper.

"Do you work for British military?" Al asked him.

"I'm a consultant," the Doctor replied. "In return, I get to work with the lab equipment."

The technicians were looking at them now, so Al said, "Why don't we talk somewhere else?"

The Doctor mulled it over. He did not want to, but he needed more information as well. Al would be more talkative on his own. "Very well."

He was starting to piece everything together, but he had an unsettling feeling. He was obviously in America, and this was _not_ military, whatever it was.

Al took him back to the holding area. It was alright; there was a comfortable bed, a small table, a desk lamp, and several hard chairs. The Doctor perched on the edge of the bed, and Al spun a chair around and straddled it facing him.

"Alright," the admiral sighed. "So who are you a consultant for, exactly?"

"The military."

Alright, then. Al decided to try a new tactic; give something up to get something back. "How 'bout this; you answer my question, and I answer yours as much as I can."

The Doctor nodded. "Very well."

"Let's try this again; who are you working for?"

"UNIT in Britain. Who do you work for?"

"The US government. How did you come into UNIT's service? Someone like you should be an inventor or a civilian scientist, not a military consultant."

"I helped them out of a bind or two, and I needed their help just as much as they needed mine. What are you working on here?"

"It's complicated, and I can't really tell you." He stood. He figured he had enough information for Ziggy to start crunching the numbers. "I need to go." He called the kid outside in. "You stay in here. Don't let him get out."

The kid nodded; he understood the subtext-Do it, or I will have your skin.

Al hurried out to feed the information to Ziggy. When the numbers came back an hour later, they did not look so good. Basically, Ziggy had no idea. There was too much unknown at the moment, so instead he had done some digging. UNIT was a UN project, and Lethbridge-Stewart was its founder and leader of the UK division. Some Doctor John Smith was mentioned in several records extensively in the 70's, but there wasn't much context. It seemed purposefully done. There were also large gaps in their chronology, and it would take months of political dancing to get someone over to London to fill them in. Al and Sam would have to wing it, as usual.

When Al told Sam, the time traveler laughed.

"You mean to tell me you have **nothing**?!"

"I wouldn't go that far," Al protested. "We jsut have very little we can get any use out of." He took a quick puff on his cigar and fussed with his handheld connection to Ziggy.

Miss. Shaw looked over at him. "Doctor, is something wrong?"

"No," he said quickly. "I was just thinking about this... thing." He gestured to the ebony football on a table.

"Oh, but we **did** find out who your girl is. Liz Shaw, a specialist in meteorites," Al said.

Miss Shaw gasped. "Doctor, look at this!"

Sam came over and looked at the printout. He felt his repressed scientist rattling the bars of its cage, and it made it possible for him to sort of understand what the printout was saying: this thing was literally perfectly smooth, or at least, close enough to foll their equipment.

"Oh my..." Sam murmured and took the paper. Al peered at it over his shoulder.

"Good God..." Al muttered. "What is that thing?" Sam risked a glance at him. He gestured with his half-smoked cigar. "That squiggle there, no there, means that there's a latch or something in it."

Sam looked at it where Al's holographic vice was marking. They had managed to take an X-ray of the thing, but there was nothing about the inside apart form a little squiggle on one side of it.

"Miss. Shaw," Sam said. She looked at him and laughed.

"Doctor, call me Liz."

"Liz, I think this means there's a latch," he said and pointed.

"Why, you're right! Should we open it?"

"I wouldn't do that just yet. We should try to find out what it is first."

Liz nodded and went back to work. Sam sighed.

They had a lot of work to do.


	4. Chapter 4

Al's pager went off as he swirled his coffee. He glanced at it and smiled. About time.

He stormed into the Control Room on a mission. Gushie silently forked over the printout. Al scanned it and grinned. Real information always made his job so much easier.

"I'm going to go give this to Sam," he said and turned to go.

"Al," Gushie said. "We may have a problem."

Al turned. "What kind of problem?" he asked in a low, dangerous voice. Over the past few days, he had become a little touchy from dealing with their cryptic guest. The Doctor happened to hit him in just the right spot to set him on a hair-sensitive trigger.

"The Doctor," Gushie replied. He hurried to full in the details. "He's been taking to Ziggy."

"How?" Al demanded, his voice like a sharp razor.

"I don't know. I found out by accident."

Al forced himself to take a deep breath. The Doctor was only trying to figure out what was going on, just like he was. The problem was that he purposefully disobeyed every command Al gave him, and the riddles didn't help any. In fact, if he had to pin it down, it was the riddles that really set him on edge.

He walked to the holding area to see the Doctor. The man was standing on a chair next to the air vent taping out a message on the covering. He stopped and waited, listening intently, when a return signal came back in the same manner. It sounded like Morse.

Al cleared his throat. The Doctor held up the chopstick he was using as the return message continued coming in.

_So that's what you're up to,_ the Doctor thought. He turned and climbed down as the echoing sounds faded.

"Learn anything interesting?" Al asked, mentally counting down from 50.

"Not really, no. Your computer is not being very helpful."

He knew he was lying, but Al still made a mental note to be nice to Ziggy for a few days. "Everything IS classified."

So that was Al's game; keep him in the dark while they tried to figure out how to put things right. He had no idea.

"Yes, well, we'll see about that!" The Doctor smiled, and Al has the feeling this man knew exactly how to get what he wanted.

There was an echoing message coming in again, and Al started translating it, drawing on his knowledge of Morse: "That is impossible."

"Excuse me." The Doctor got back up on the chair and beat back a reply: "No, it isn't. Take a long hard look at the UNIT files."

So this was how he was communicating to Ziggy without leaving the room. Very clever. Since the computer had complete control of everything, he would be able to collect and decode the messages. His replies were probably him lifting and slamming one of the vent covers, meant as a paranoid emergency communication system if something ever happened and isolated the crew.

"Might I ask what you're talking about?" Al asked. The Doctor looked at him.

"No, sorry. You wouldn't believe it." His face suddenly underwent a spasm, and a looked of horror over came him.

"Doctor, is something wrong?" Al asked.

"Not in a manner of speaking," the Doctor replied in a totally different manner. "Would you happen to have a recorder? Helps me think." Before Al had a chance to reply, he cut himself off. "No! I won't have you playing that damn thing!"

Al was wondering what was going on. He had the sinking feeling it meant nothing good.

* * *

In retrospect, Sam shouldn't have touched it. When they had subjected it to another series of tests, but it had started to hum louder and glow. For some inexplicable reason or other, Sam had decided to touch it. It had let off a nasty shock, and a reddish mist had filled his vision shortly before he had dropped out of consciousness. An hour or so later, he had woken up with a bitter taste in his mouth and a strange syncopated heartbeat in his ears. And then there was something in his head, a sort of echoing conversation. It was Al, and a strangely familiar voice that must have been his own.

How strange. He couldn't figure it out.

_Learn anything interesting?_ Al asked.

_Not really, no. Your computer is not being very helpful_, Sam's voice replied.

Sam opened his eyes. Liz and the Brigadier looked down worriedly into his face.

"Doctor, are you alright?" Liz asked.

"Yeah." He sat up and coughed.

Al was suddenly at his shoulder. "There you are. I know why you're here."

Sam looked at him and waited for him to say it.

"Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart was injured shortly after receiving an odd package at UNIT. Ziggy predicts, with a 63.42 probability, you're here to prevent that."

"How am I going to do that?" Sam asked tiredly.

Al shrugged. "I don't know. We don't have much. The Brits are a little paranoid about sharing."

"Doctor, who are you taking to?" Liz asked worriedly.

"No one. I was just thinking over possibilities."

Al yawned. Sam looked at him questioning. "It's the Doctor. He's developed some kind of split personality disorder or something. I've had to sit up with him and try to make sense of his riddles."

"Can't Dr. Beeks do that?" Sam asked.

"No; the Doctor actually refused to talk to anyone else. But I can't make heads or tails out of what he's saying, mostly because he argues with himself."

The Brigadier shook off whatever shock he might have had. "Well, I suggest we take a long hard look at that thing," he said crisply. "And don't touch it this time."

"No argument there," Sam replied and got to his feet. They were still in the lab, and he went over to the object where it sat, still glowing, on the lab bench. As he got closer to it, it seemed to lash out at him mentally, and he gasped as it hit something down in his subconscious. Then it caught onto it and drilled down, like it was searching.

Al suddenly heard the Doctor screaming, "ROM!"

Sam grabbed his head and bent double, like it would help protect him.

Beeks yelled, "AL!"

The Doctor was swaying on his feet, and he grabbed Beeks by the collar. "Get on the air vent..." he managed, wincing. "Tell Ziggy... It's the Rom..."

Suddenly, there was something inside Sam's head, and it was bent on taking over.

"ROM?" Beeks asked, not understanding.

The Brigadier and Liz were at Sam's side, demanding answers.

The two parts of the Doctor's split mind rose up against the invasion, and his body called back to him, nearly pulling him all the way back. He suddenly saw the lab through his old eyes, and he felt Sam's defensive mind. But he couldn't endanger him, and so he shut himself back up in Sam's body. And he hoped the Quantum Leap project would be able to keep him in chains.


	5. Chapter 5

Al stood biting his lip at the Doctor's bedside. He had no idea what had happened. According to Beeks, he had demanded Ziggy be told "it's the Rom" before collapsing.

And then there was Sam! Something had happened to him, and he was just barely clinging to a scrap of consciousness. And there was nothing Al could do.

The Doctor opened his eyes. They stared with a feverish brightness, and there was a hint of madness behind them that put Al ill at ease. He leaned up and grabbed Al by the collar.

"Need help," he rasped.

"What kind of help?" Al asked, thrown and terrified.

"Your help."

"How could I help you?"

"Let me in."

Al had no idea what that mean, but he didn't dare say no. He didn't trust himself to speak, so he just nodded once. The Doctor reached up with one hand and put it on Al's face.

"Contact..." the Doctor managed.

"Contact," Al echoed, wondering if he would regret this.

And the chaos in the Doctor's mind raged on.

* * *

Sam sat up slowly, wincing. He could feel some sort of... war in the back of his mind, but it wasn't a part of him. But a single word surged forward: Rom. It didn't mean a single thing to him, unless it was ROM, as in Read-Only Memory, but a deep feeling in his bones said that wasn't it.

The Brigadier sighed in relief as Sam looked around. "You've come around. You have to stop scaring us like that."

"Yeah." Sam rubbed his temples.

"Doctor, is something wrong?" Liz asked worriedly.

"There's something else in my head." He pushed harder on the temples, hoping it would somehow help kill the internal pain. "Rom," he muttered.

"Rom?" Liz asked. "What's that?"

"I don't know. The name just came to me."

_Eternal Void_, something branded on the inside of his skull. Flaming pieces were coming in from the mind leaking, spilling into his as the lines between them started to blur, and Sam started to put them together: the Rom were parasitic and lived in the Eternal Void; they would attack and take over the host's mind; and, most of all, the Doctor was far from human. He had helped banish the Rom to the Void, and now they were punishing him for it. They had split his mind, and now they were doing more than taking it. They were torturing it.

* * *

The Doctor was awash in a tempest with only his past self at his side for balance and to keep the water out of their little boat.

"We can't do it on our own!" Second declared.

"We'd be fools to try," Third agreed right before a wave of tsunami proportions washed over them. "They've become stronger!"

"Indeed!" Second coughed up a lungful of water, somehow keeping the Rom from inside him. "Could this Al really help?"

"I don't know. We need help, and he's the only one I trust enough to enlist." Third looked up into the black sky. "Besides, he's here anyway."

Al was suddenly in the boat with them, and he glanced around the tight quarters with no small measure of fear. "What is all this?"

"This is my mind," Second replied. "Well, **our** mind," he corrected after a moment's thought.

"Who are you?"

"I'm the Second Doctor," Second replied. Al looked at him with confusion. "Oh, you don't know then." He turned on Third. "Why didn't you tell him before?!"

"I didn't have time." He turned to Al. "I am not what you think I am. I am not human, and this is previous version of myself."

Al nodded, not exactly taking it in stride, but at least accepting it for the insanity it was.

"How can I help?"

"Get rid of the water," Second replied and handed over a bucket. They started to bail out the boat, and Third stood up at the front of it.

"In the name of the Time Lords and every creature you have ever taken, I say peace be still!" Third shouted into the howling wind.

An eerie laughing came from all directions.

"Doctor," a smooth, seductive voice not exactly male or female said from everywhere at once. "You you really think that is enough to stop me? Because, I say, in the name of every Rom living in the Eternal Void, every Rom dead from your interference, every Rom crippled from the initial attack, that you must feel everything you did to us!"

Another wave washed over the boat, and Third was thrown overboard.

"Doctor!" Second and Al chorused, and they leaned over the side to try and drag Third back in. They nearly capsized do it, but Third was back out of the clutches of the Rom.

"Oh, Al," a soft familiar feminine voice purred from the front of the boat. They turned and saw a beautiful woman sitting on the side.

"Tina," Al gasped. "How did you get here!"

"She's not here!" Second replied sharply. "It's the Rom! It's just taken her form!"

"We may need more help than I thought," Third coughed.

"You think so?!" Second demanded.

"Tina" leaned forward seductively and beckoned to Al. "Come here," she crooned.

Second leaped up and shoved her off into the water.

"Hey!" Al objected. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Saving you!" Second shot back.

Al leaned over the side to try and pull her back in, but Second got an arm around his waist and flung him in the bottom of the boat with several inches of water sloshing around.

Third was limp, concentrating totally on one point, reaching out through this storm to the only mind he could reach now: Sam.

* * *

Sam suddenly heard something clearly in his head. "Help." He could feel the desperation, and Al. Al was in there somewhere. He sighed, took several deep breaths, and plunged into the fray.


	6. Chapter 6

Sam was suddenly in the boat, and Al looked at him suspiciously.

"You're not Rom, are you?" he asked.

"No."

"He isn't," Third ensured. "I just brought him here."

"Why?" Sam asked, noticing he was sitting in a little row boat with icy water lapping at his shins. Al had a bucket and was trying to bail out the boat.

"Because we have to somehow still this," Third replied and waved a hand to the tempest.

"How about an actual plan?" Al asked. "The last attempt worked SO well."

Second snapped his fingers. "I've got it! They made a mistake; they split your mind and produced me! We have two Time Lords! If we combine our mental powers, we might be able to stop it!"

"Even that might not be enough," Third replied darkly.

"Then add us in," Al replied. "Sammy here is a quantum physicist, and I'm not too shabby myself."

Second looked at Third. "Worth a try," Second replied finally.

"It just might work," Third added.

Al put his bucket down, and all four sat still in the boat, focusing on uniting.

"Contact," Third said.

"Contact," Second echoed.

"Contact," Al echoed.

"Contact," Sam echoed.

The minds of the two Doctors combined with ease and then reached out for Al and Sam. Their minds united, and they lashed out back against the Rom.

The Rom laughed, but they were now a force to be reckoned with. Alone they were no match, but together they could actually still the storm.

The Rom sent a powerful wave and capsized the boat. The four went under, and they kicked back up to the surface. Gasping for air, their minds almost broke apart, but sheer will kept them together. The Rom destroyed their boat, leaving them at the mercy of the waves. Second went under when another tsunami crashed over them, and Third dove down to rescue him, dragging him back up to the surface. They were still searching for any weakness to use against the Rom, and suddenly, they found it.

Al opened his eyes in the holding area and pulled out the Handlink.

Sam opened his eyes in the UNIT lab and walked over to the nearest computer.

"Sure hope this works," both whispered across the barriers of space and time.

Al sent a sharp jolt of electricity into Sam's body, and Sam sent a jolt through the Doctor's body.

And the Rom screamed in pain and fury.

Another few volts went in, and the Rom shrunk from the energy. Sam and Al dove back into the chaos and joined with the Doctors. They joined hands and marched after the invaders, building new boundaries and pushing, always pushing back on the Rom. They had it cornered, and it howled enraged.

"Back you go!" Second declared.

"And I know exactly where you belong," Sam added. They focused, and they sent the Rom back into the object it had come to Earth in.

And then it was over.

* * *

Al sighed and lit a cigar. "Well, Doctor, I'll be honest; I'm having trouble believing any of that actually happened."

The Doctor smiled. "That's what everyone tells me."

Al leaned forward across the table. "Hey, do you think you could help us with a little problem we've been having?"

"What kind of problem?"

"Theory. We're having trouble retrieving Sam, and we can't really figure out why."

"You'll have to fill me in totally."

"Absolutely."

"The trouble is, your form of time travel is rather crude."

"Crude?" Al had always thought there was a sort of simplistic elegance in the Quantum Leap idea.

"Yes, crude. Don't look at me like that. It's not surprising you've had problems."

"Could you still help?" Al wasn't about to let this opportunity slip away.

The Doctor nodded. "Of course. You'll need quite a bit of energy, naturally."

"Naturally."

"The real trick will be to control the leap, as you call it, not to mention inducing it, which could probably be pulled off by a sinple energy transference."

Al was taking notes.

"Then all you have to do is-" The Doctor suddenly fell silent, and Al looked up.

"Doctor?"

His eyes were wide. "I believe, I may not be able to help you as much as I thought."

Before Al could ask what he meant, Sam leaped.

* * *

Sam was packing the Rom back up in their crate, now lined less-than-artfully with lead. UNIT would store it with strict instructions to never open it under any circumstances. He actually sealed it with the sonic screwdriver, instructions for which were thoughtfully provided by the Doctor, who was now a sole Time Lord from a little help repairing his mind. Sam and Al had graciously helped him out, and in return, he had told them the story of the Rom.

Basically, the Doctor had stumbled upon them in his wanderings as the Second Doctor. He had discovered their parasitic nature, and how they were preying on the other inhabitants the Padim of their planet, and he had united the Padim against the Rom. Together, they had managed to muster the resources to banish the Rom to the nearby Eternal Void. The Rom had vowed revenge, and now it seemed they had managed to send one of their own to Earth to take it.

"Well, Doctor," Lethbridge-Stewart said as he walked into the lab. "I take it you're not going to offer an explanation of what happened."

"No. You wouldn't believe me. Not in a million years."

Sam beckoned to the nearest lieutenant. "Take this and hide it away, would you?"

The man nodded and moved to pick it up. Sam suddenly remembered what Ziggy was 60-or-so percent sure he was supposed to do, and he grabbed the Brigadier and pulled him out of the way as the lieutenant dropped the box right where the Brigadier's foot had been not a moment before.

"Thank you, Doctor," the Brigadier said.

"No problem."

He smiled, and then he leaped.


	7. Epilogue

_Several years later_

Al was half asleep when there was a crisp knock on the door. He stood and opened it. Outside stood the Doctor from a leap Sam had made early in the Quantum Leap project.

"Doctor!"

Al had become familiar with the idea of Time Lord regeneration with the telepathic connection, but this was the same Doctor that had infuriated him years before.

"Hello, old chap! Do you still need help with that sticky problem?"

"Absolutely." He pushed open the door.

"I would have been here sooner, but I didn't have the dematerialization codes for the TARDIS for the longest time, and then I had quite the time bouncing around," the Doctor apologized as he came in.

"Better late than never," Al replied and cleared a spot on the table.

The Doctor and Al sat down, and a glimmer of Sam's homecoming appeared on the horizon.

* * *

_**Him... That wasn't what I expected at all. I know, weird ending, but I have to say I'm a bit proud of it. Hope you liked it.**_


End file.
